The 100th Hunger Games
by LittlemissME654
Summary: Step inside the mind of a career. Its not easy, training your whole life for a game in which you have to become a murderer.The games are approaching and Thistle has no choice but to take part. One good thing about being a career is your a kickass fighter.
1. Chapter 1

_A.N: Hi! I decided to make a hunger games fan fiction to honour the upcoming Hunger Games movie (fangirl squell!)_

_I also decided I wanted to do something a bit differant sooo I decided to do it about a career tribute. I mean if you think about it they have it harder than everyone knowing that they have to take part in the hunger games because their parents the people who are supposed to love and protect them put them forward before they could decide for themselves._

_I'm realli sorry the first chapter or two are quite short because their just introductary chapters to get to know Thistle and her life in. and to introduce the twist of the quarter quell._

_Anyways please tell me if you like it and I will always have a chapter or two in advance so expect regular updates XD. _

_ENJOY!_

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Chapter 1.

I am walking home from training, my sweaty hair sticking to my forehead when I suddenly hear the Capital theme ringing through the streets and the excited whispering of the citizens of district 2, a large TV screen on one of the building blinks to life to show the smiling face of Caesar with his ridiculous green and white hair covering his lightly creased eyes.

"Hello citizens of Panem, this year is a very big year!" His voice bellows, "This year is our 100th Hunger Games and that means that not only is a Quarter Quell but it's also our first ever century anniversary of the games. So this game is going to be a _very_ special game!"

He gives one last smile before the camera pans away from his face and locks onto the sickening smile of President Stalin as he walks towards the podium, you can see a the blurred shape of a boy in a white suit standing behind him holding a wooden box.

As President Stalin takes his place behind the podium his eyes lock onto the camera and it really feels as if he is staring at you, as if he knows what is going to happen and knows you won't like it one bit.

But that's a stupid thing to think; no one knows what's going to happen until they open the envelope, besides nothing in that card could possibly make my situation worse, you see unlike people in other districts I know I'm going into the games because I was chosen before I was even born, chosen by my parents.

I'm jealous of the other districts because even though they might not have plenty of food or electricity like me, but at least _they_ have hope, at least _they_ know their parents love them, at least_they_weren't conceived for the purpose of being a tribute in the games and bringing their family glory. Yeah no matter what the other districts think life as a career wasn't easy.

The voice of President Stalin brings me back to my senses as he talks about why the games are necessary, about how in the dark days we rebelled and now we are paying for it, about the laws of the game and then go on to list what happened in the previous Quarter Quells.

"On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it."

I smile sadly as I realise that in a way I had already gone through that. However unlike the past tributes I was chosen a long time ago so I'm ready for the upcoming Games.

"On the fiftieth anniversary," the president continues his smile widening impossibly, "as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes."

Well I hope they don't that this year, after all this is my year and 47 is a lot of people to kill but then again a lot of them would be studs and wouldn't really be any real competition.

"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes were be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

I remember my mother talking about that year, apparently it was a particularly interesting game since the year before there were two victors after a couple of tributes from district 12 who pretended they were in love manipulated the Capitals audience had to go back in for the 75th games.

We learn about the girl, Katniss, in school, she had been a savage and tried to provoke another rebellion, and the boy, Peeta, who pretended to love her and even claimed she was pregnant. Katniss had been killed along with Peeta in the 75th games meaning that luckily the rebellion never occurred.

At least that's what they say at school, secretly I think she sounds amazing challenging the Capital like that but I would never tell anyone that.

"And now we honour our fourth Quarter Quell," says the president. The little boy in white steps forward, holding out the box as he opens the lid. Stalin takes out the envelope clearly labelled with a big 100.

He runs his finger under the flap and pulls out a small square of paper. Without hesitation, he reads, "On the one-hundredth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that they committed a terrible act of betrayal against the capital, the male and female tributes will be reaped and then a friend or family member of the same sex will be chosen and they must fight to the death. The winner will be the tribute for the Hunger Game."

I admit I am a little taken back by this, I have been ready to go into the games but I was not ready for that. I'm not worried that I'm not going to get into the games as planned, no I am one of the best fighters my district has ever seen, according to my current trainers, however I am extremely worried as to who out of the few of my friends they're going to choose for me to kill since I have no siblings.

I think about this as I continue back home. After a while I decide it doesn't matter who they chose, I have plenty of friends who hang out with me because I was likely to win one of the Hunger Games but none of them are real friends that I trust. To be honest I'm not close to anyone apart from Spark but he's a boy so I won't have to fight him.

Arriving back home I am greeted by my parents and a large serving of Gammon. Smiling at them as thanks for the meal I start to eat the succulent meat. I am so engrossed in the delicious meat after a _very_ long and stressful day of training that I don't notice my father standing close behind me.

"Thistle." I hear him say from behind me.

"Yes." I answer as I turn away from my meat with annoyance.

"You saw the announcement today, didn't you?" He says his voice tight and measured as he peers down at me. Of course he would want to talk to me about the games; since when did we talk about anything else.

"Yes." I answer before turning back to my meat. I don't want to talk to them, all they would offer is tactics and I don't want that at the moment. All I want is to eat my food and pretend I don't have to kill someone I know and maybe even like.

"Thistle, look at me." He says sounding slightly impatient.

"What?" I ask turning around and glaring at him to make sure he knows I didn't want to talk. Not that will make a difference.

"You need to know that this doesn't change anything and you mustn't let this distract you from your goal. You are still going to volunteer, even if that means killing one of your classmates."

I frown at that, they're my parents aren't they at least supposed to act like they care. I want to tell them to leave me alone and tell them I don't want to kill anyone let alone a friend. But I can't.

"I know that." I say instead. It's not like I have a choice, I was born to kill, I spent my life training to kill, and I'm damned good at it too.

"Good." My mother says as she smiled overly sweetly down at me, "because we would hate for you to lose focus. Now back to your food, you want to be nice and strong, after all it's almost your big day!"

I return her smile just as sweetly, angry that they don't care, not that I expected anything else. However she is right about one thing.

It _is_almost my big day.


	2. Chapter 2

_A.N: So chapter 2 up... but its not the reaping yet_

_So keep reading coz the real actions about to begin!_

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Chapter 2.

I pick up the knife and throw it with all my force straight into the dummy's heart. The knife digs into the dummy and knocks it backwards with a loud bang.

I glare at the fallen dummy and stalk over to get my knife. Then I rip it out of the dummy's hard wooden flesh, giving it a kick before I spit at it's featureless face.

Everyone turns and looks at me with surprise to which I glare at them and throw the knife again at another dummy with just as much force.

"Thistle, are you OK?" I hear someone calling from behind me sounding worried and I scowled annoyed at the disturbance when I suddenly realise that isn't anyone speaking it's Spark.

I love Spark, he's brilliant; he makes me laugh and he's the only person I've ever felt comfortable talking to. With Spark I don't have to be Thistle, ruthless future victor of the Hunger Games, with Spark I can be me. He's the only person I can lose my control with and not have to worry about the consequences.

Just realising he was here is enough to wipe the scowl off my face and I spin around to see him.

"Spark!" I yelp in a very un-scary-killer-career-tribute-like manner, giving him a big hug glad he is finally here.

"Hey Thistle?"

"Mmmm…?" I murmur into his hard yet cuddly chest.

"You're kind of choking me." He says with a playful laugh.

I look up at him and peel myself off . "Sorry."

"That's OK Thistle, I like it when you hug me just try not to kill me next time." He says giving me one of his winning smiles and then after a moment or two he suddenly says, "Thistle, _are_ you OK?"

Great way to kill the mood, I was finally relaxing.

"I'm fine." I say curtly.

"Really? because the dummy doesn't seem to think so." He jokes motioning to the dummy I had knocked over that now had a massive split in it's chest where my knife had lodged into it.

"I'm just stressed. Besides what does it matter if I ruin I dummy all the better for the games right?" I snap wishing he would just drop the subject.

Ignoring my tone, he looks at me with concern.

"I'm guessing you saw the announcement."

"Yeah, I saw the announcement." I say bluntly giving him a glare and turning around to pick up another knife, trying to ignore the flash of hurt I saw on his face.

I feel bad about treating him like this; we've been best friends for as long as I can remember and we've always been there for each other no matter what and now when I needed him the most I was treating him terribly. But I just can't talk about how I feel with anyone at the moment because if I'm honest I didn't really understand it myself. I don't know why I am so angry and upset and, god damn it, scared. I am so, so scared and I don't know why.

"I'm sorry." He says quietly, "but Thistle you know I'm here for you, right?"

"I know." I replied and I did, I really did.

"Then why won't you talk to me? Do you think I won't understand? because I'll try, I'll try really hard to." He asks.

"It's not that."

"Then what?" He asks looking slightly confused, his face is etched with concern, his angular features softened with care.

"I just." I struggle to find the right way to explain, "I just…I don't understand." I finally get out.

"What don't you understand; maybe talking out it will help." He says kindly coaxing the information out of me with a smile.

"I don't understand how I feel." I say looking him square in the eye lowering my voice so no one else could hear; my reputation would be ruined if people knew, "I feel so confused and angry and well, scared I guess. But I don't know what I'm scared about. I mean I know why I'm angry that one's simply enough, but I don't get why I'm scared. I've got nothing to be scared of."

It feels good to get that all off my chest even if it did make me seem weak, after all this isSpark the boy who's seen me at my worst and still been there. I shouldn't be worrying about not looking strong in front of him.

"OK well that seems simple enough." Spark says, "You're angry about… your parents I would imagine…"

I nod at this and he smiles before continuing.

"You're scared because you are worried about the games and you're confused because you know logically you shouldn't be worried about the games because you're a kick ass fighter and are sure to win."

"And if I don't? What if I don't come back, Spark?" I ask in an almost pleading tone.

He falters at this.

"You will; you've been training for this your whole life." He answers firmly after a nerve racking moment of silence.

"So have all the other tributes from districts 1, 2 and 4." I point out still not feeling at ease.

"True… but they're not _you_. _They_ can't climb a tree in a matter of seconds, _they_ can't scale a mountain, _they_ can't hit a person through the back severing their spine and piercing their heart with one throw and most importantly _they_ aren't as smart as you." He says confidently giving me a little poke in the stomach every time he made a new point.

Spark is right, I am a very good contestant, hell I might even be the best but that still doesn't solve the one problem that has been nagging at me since the announcement. They expect me to kill a friend. It's easy enough to kill a stranger but to kill someone you know is another thing all together, you know the persons family and you have to watch them grieving knowing that you're responsible for their pain and that they will never forgive you.

And I'm not sure I am able to do that.

"But what about before the games, what about when they expect me to kill someone I know, someone I talk to everyday. What about that, Spark?" I ask him voicing my troubled thoughts, knowing that Spark is the only person who can help me with this because Spark always has an answer. Always.

"I don't know." He replies sadly and I am suddenly stricken by the thought that Spark doesn't know, surely that means there's no solution, "I guess you'll just have to do it."

He holds my gaze for a long time and I allow him to pull me back into a hug. I snuggled into his warm embrace, glad that he's here for me. It doesn't matter if no one else cared just as long as I had my Spark.

We stay like for some time, just clinging onto the other like a lifeline until eventually my trainer Caspian comes and brakes us apart.

"You've had your break Thistle, get back to training." He says harshly giving Spark a disaproving look for distracting me from my training.

"But that wasn't a break, sir; Spark and I were just talking." I say slightly annoyed at him for trying to take Spark away from me.

"Were you training?" Caspian asks.

"Well. Ugh." This is so unfair.

"Were you?" He asks again his voice tight.

"Well. No." I admit reluctantly.

"So if you weren't training, you must have been having your break." He says with finality before walking off.

I give Caspian another of my trade mark glares and have to hide my laugh with a cough as Spark makes a nasty face at him behind his back.

After one last smile with Spark as we share our silent joke I turn back to training.

Just as I go to pick up my favourite knife, Caspian calls back to me "Oh and Thistle try training with a weapon other than that knife, we both know your throw is beyond perfect perhaps use the bow for once."

With a sigh I put down my prized knife and turn to the dreaded bow. I don't like bows; they're a coward's weapon, you shoot from a distance and keep away from your opponent. I feel if you're going to kill someone at least have the respect to let them know they're about to die and give them a chance to defend themselves. Even if resisting is pointless.

I also don't like how a bow feels; it has no weight, feels as if not there. With a knife you have this beautiful weight in your hands making you feel powerful and strong but a bow just feels pointless.

Another thing about bows I don't like is I'm not the best at using them. I'm not bad, I can hit a person but not with as much accuracy as with throwing knifes, and I also for the life of me can't seem to hit any of the fake little animals they put up in the training area.

After a couple of hours of working with the bow and finding that while my aim with humans was improving, I can now mortally injure one of my enemies but I still can't seem to get a killing shot on any of the dummies.

By the time it is time to go home I am extremely frustrated and tired. I mean why, why can't I seem to master that god damned bow I have managed to become an expert in all weapons and yet I still can't get that arrow into one of the stupid dummies hearts.

I walk home from my last ever training session in my home district with Spark. We joked and talked but neither of us about what we were actually thinking about.

I had no more time to prepare.

Tomorrow was the reaping.

_-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-_

_A.N: Ooohhh... So do you like Spark. I personally think he's really cute..._


	3. Chapter 3

_A.N: Ahhh… the reaping is finally here!_

_Enjoy and may the odds be ever in your favour!_

_-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-_

Chapter 3.

I wake up and realise with a sudden jolt that today is the day.

It's the reaping today.

It's my day.

The day when I finally got to take part in the games.

The funny thing is that I'm not excited at all, not even in the slightest. In fact, I think I might even be scared. Not scared of death like the other tributes that will be chosen at the reaping today but scared none the less.

However that was no way for a career and future victor to think so I try to set my mind back to the frame my parents had been imposing on me since I was old enough to walk.

I try to be happy about this, after all why I shouldn't be, this is finally happening, the day my whole life had been leading up too.

But as much as I know I should be happy I just can't bring myself to be. It's odd if anyone asked me they would assume I was unhappy due to the fact I was about to kill a friend and a whole load of other tributes but it's so much more. It's the fact I know that my parents can't possibly love me if they are putting me forward for something I could die in just to bring them fame and it's the fact I have no friends to worry about having to kill.

But how I feel is irrelevant today is the day I am going into the Hunger Games and nothing is going to stop me so I pull myself out of my comfortable bed and walk towards the full length mirror on my wall.

I look completely normal; there was no sign of the conflict I amfeeling on my seemingly calm face. My soft oval face is as smooth as usual and my delicate facial features looked the same as ever. The only part of that looked any different are my light purple eyes which were wide and frightened; I smile at my reflection to hide the truth my eyes showed.

_I am Thistle Casletoe._

_I am strong, lethal and intelligent._

_I am going to win the Hunger Games._

I say in my head, the same as every other morning before walking away from the mirror in order to get ready for the reaping.

I got out the light green dress I decided on a couple of days ago because it complimented my eyes, I had almost chosen this beautiful blue dress but had decided against as it was my favourite and I didn't want to get blood on it during the fight at the reaping.

The dress hugged my figure clinging to my curves before flowing out and billowing up above my knees. It showed off my slender frame and was strapless to highlight my long elegant neck.

I look at myself in the mirror again pleased with the dress and set to work on my face. I gently highlight my eyes and give my mouth a wicked curve that made me look a hell of a lot more sinister than I feeling.

I don't need to work with my light ash blonde hair apart from to brush it as I had cut it into a short bob that framed my face and showed off my strong jaw. All the girls at school had been shocked at my choice of hairstyle, girls don't cut their hair short that's what boys do, which is why I originally chose the hair cut. Spark had thought it was brilliant, I remember his amused face as he took him my new almost boyish look and I can't help but smile at the comforting memory.

Giving myself one last look before I start to breakfast to face the adorning faces of my mother and father who are sure to be ecstatic about the reaping today.

"Hello Sweetie!" My mother calls, barely able to conceal her excitement, as I enter the kitchen and sit at the table, "Today's the big day!"

"Yeah." I mumble as I make a grab for some food.

"Now, now Thistle you seem to be in a bit of a mood this morning. Just remember this is the first the public will see you and you need to make a good impression on the sponsors." My father says giving me a slight frown of disapproval.

By the time I have finished breakfast I have managed to work up a happy mask to wear for the reaping after all who wants to sponsor a career that looks like they don't want to be part of the games, I need to look strong for the people watching.

Of course on the way to reaping almost every passer-by would stop and give me their congratulations and tell me that they couldn't wait to see me in action. By the time I have reached the town centre where the reaping is being held my smile has almost worn out.

I am ushered into a long line of girls none of which were even looking nervous, they knew if their name was chosen someone else, like me, would volunteer in their place. That is apart from the girls who hung around with me at school, they look incredibly scared and kept sending me fearful glances and then looking away as soon as I caught their eyes.

They should be scared after all I am about to kill one of them. Feeling their fear made me feel stronger in a weird way; if they were scared of me then the other tributes would know to be scared of me too.

The Mayor of district 2 stands up gives a speech on how wonderful our district is and how important the Capital is and then goes on to talk about the rebellion and how the games had been made. It was the same speech every year and yet somehow every time I listened to him it seemed it get more and more boring.

Then our host a young (or at least he looked young but that was probably due to extensive surgery) man called Pentive from the Capital steps forward his pure white teeth flashing against his purple lips.

"Hello and welcome to the 100th reaping!" He says his Capital accent twanging annoyingly, "I am honoured to be hosting such a prestigious event and cannot wait to meet districts 2's tributes for the games so without further ado let the reaping begin!"

I feel anticipation coiling in my stomach making it twist uncomfortably and held my head higher to show everyone I am ready.

I no longer feel afraid, I feel confident and deadly. This is my day and nothing is going to stop me.

"Let's start with the girls, shall we." He says his voice booming out across the silent courtyard. His hand dips into the large bowl and he swirls his fingers around stopping over several slips before choosing one.

"Rose Devenly!" He calls out and a young girl walks forward to stand on the stage not looking very worried. She knows someone will step forward.

Once she was on the stage Pentive gives her a smile and says, "Any volunteers?"

I immediately put my arm up and shout "I volunteer!"

My voice sounds strong, steady and confident as it echoes through the silent courtyard.

"Brilliant!" Pentive says sweetly before asking, "Any other volunteers for the place of the female tribute of district 2?"

Usually several people would have called out by now and I would have to fight for my place as tribute but today no one came forward. I suppose it was because of the quarter quell and the doom of having to kill one of your own friends that deters them.

So I make my way up to the stage unchallenged, smiling at the crowd to show them I am not afraid all the while avoided the eyes of my school mates as they stare at me with fear, praying they are chosen to fight me.

"Lovely and you are?" Pentive asks once I am standing beside him.

"Thistle Casletoe." I answer clearly.

"Right Thistle lets see who you are going to fight against, shall we."

This is the moment I have been dreading and my palms start to sweat as the calm exterior I thought I had control of slips away.

I have to look away as he opened a book and searches for my name to see the list of contacts he could chose from.

After a while he smiles and says clearly, "ah ha! How about Daisy Abbott!"

A small girl of about the same age as me steps forward and I immediately recognise her as the girl I sit next to in maths, she is kind and sweet but she is in no way prepared to even try and take me on. She would be an easy kill. That is of course if I forget that she's the girl who helped me in my maths exam by sliding her answers over and always shared a joke with me over our horrid teacher, Mrs Da Costa.

If I forget all that she will be an easy kill.

By now she has taken her place next to me on the stage and seems to be pleading me to spare her with her eyes, but it is no use if I could I would save her but I didn't get a choice, it was kill or be killed and I was not going to die.

"Ok _now_ the games can begin." Pentive says rubbing his hands together eagerly.

"Step into the cage," He says motioning to the cage at the centre of the stage. It was large with plenty of room to stand up and move around.

I move towards the cage, slip inside and wait for Daisy but she doesn't come. I look over and realise she's still standing beside Pentive and looking the cage with fear apparently struggling with the urge to run off the stage.

Eventually however she has to enter the cage and immediately walked over to the very edge as far away from me as possible, her legs shaking.

I don't know how long I stand there looking at her but it feels like forever. My heart is beating quicker and quicker as I realise for the first what I truly had to do, I had to kill her. I have to kill the only girl who had liked me for reasons other than my social status, she might not have been someone I trusted with my secrets but she was still someone I liked, someone I had joked with and messed around with. Now she was someone I had to kill.

I don't realise when I decide to move but suddenly I have lurched forward and grabbed poor Daisy by the throat. I hold tightly watching her flawing weakly as I choked the life from her.

I could feel her desperately hitting me trying to break free of my grip, her breathing becoming broken and disjointed and I wished she would stop she was making this so hard. I didn't want to kill her and her struggles were just prolonging her suffering.

I can't take it anymore, looking into Daisy's scared, innocent eyes as I kill her.

I needed to end this now.

I tighten my hold; I don't want her to suffer for a single moment longer.

That is when her light blue eyes lost their light and her head rolled back lifelessly. Standing this close to her I feel that her chest had stopped moving and the lack of breath on my check and I knew that she was gone.

Her once warm smiling face is now limp and cold and her eyes are glassy and unseeing.

I shove her dead body away from my own unable to bear the thought of being this close to her empty lifeless shell after what I have just done.

I have killed her.

I have destroyed her family.

Somewhere in the crowd her mother and father are weeping for her lost child who had just been killed in front of them. Somewhere her friends and siblings are crying for my blood.

What I had just done was unforgivable. And it doesn't matter according to the Capital and my parents.

Well they're wrong, it does matter and I will never forgive myself.

"It appears we have a winner!" Comes Pentive's voice, sounding overly cheerful after the death of a young girl.

He calls me other and gets me to stand next to one of our old victors, Rosmary, and then he walks back over to the reaping bowl.

I feel numb as I watch him choosing a name out of the reaping bowl. Yet again a name was called out and the boy walks up to the stage only to be replaced by an another volunteer.

The new boy walks up to the stage and I vaguely recognise him from training but as I had sessions away from other people I have only seen him in breaks and leaving to head back home.

He is big and muscular as you would expect from a career tribute and appears to be around 17. He has an almost hungry look about him as he steps onto the stage and stands beside Pentive.

"And you are?" Pentive asks.

"Forto" He answers his voice strong and unwavering.

His friend is called forward and the big strong boy wavers for a moment, an unreadable emotion flitting through his eyes and then it's gone and the boy is striding towards the cage.

His friend enters after him without a moments hesitation.

It's an unfair match and it's clear who is going to win from the start, his friend was thin and lanky; he didn't stand a chance against the trained killing machine standing before him.

The two boys stand there looking at each other for a moment and then the friend nods once and Forto moves forward and twists his neck in one smooth motion. The click that sounded through the otherwise silent air lingers for a moment for all to hear before it vanishes leaving behind only the friends dead body.

The friends head rolls to the side and Forto slowly presses his lips to the boy's forehead before walking out of the cage and standing beside me.

"Well it looks like we have our tributes!" Pentive says his heavy Capital accent making every word sound distorted and alien, "So happy Hunger Games! And may the odd be ever in your favour!"

With that the mayor steps forward to finish the speech and congratulate us, we both smile graciously knowing the Capital audience are watching and that we must appear strong for sponsors but I can see that killing our friends has affected us both and if I look carefully Forto's hand is trembling slightly.

After the speech Forto and me move forwards to shake hands, he gives my hand a small and yet comforting squeeze and I know that I have found I confidant, someone who knows how I am feeling right now and understands.

I think that is what grounds me during the rest of the ceremony.

I think that is what reminded me that the games had only just begun.

_-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-THG-_

_A.N: So the tensions starting to grow…_

_Just wondering do you think she should trust Forto?_

_And please leave a review if you want me to continue because I'm not very sure at the moment._


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